The Empire Of The Western Mediterranean

Malta is a curious island. Its population is roughly equivalent to that of Palma, yet in size it is less than one-tenth of Mallorca. Such shoe-horning of humanity into such a small area makes it one of the most densely populated countries of all. And it is of course a country, unlike Mallorca.

There was a time when there was a common link between the two islands, namely Aragon. Indeed, there was a common link between Malta, Sicily, Sardinia, Corsica and Mallorca. All of them in centuries past were united under Aragonese rule. In addition to parts of Spain, southern France, southern Italy and even Greece, the Crown of Aragon at one time ruled as a thalassocracy - rule of the sea, a state with principally maritime realms. It was, if you like, a Mediterranean empire.

It was the lot of Mediterranean islands that they were to pass into the control of others. Being generally of strategic importance, they were tempting to any wannabe imperialists. Malta, like Mallorca, had its share of Phoenicians, Carthaginians, Romans, Vandals, Byzantines, Arabs. Malta was to also, somewhat bizarrely but importantly, to come under the ownership of the Knights Hospitaller in the mid-sixteenth century, and they remained in situ until Napoleon took a fancy to the island. The outcome of the latter's interest was to bring the British Empire into the story. In 1814, under the Treaty of Paris, Malta became part of the empire.

Apart from some protection from the old Kingdom of Sicily, of which it was a part, Malta was never integrated into a Mediterranean country. The rule of the Knights of Malta was a key ingredient in establishing a form of insular independence, which was finally and definitively established in 1964. Under British control, its protector was a long way distant, so it was quite unlike the other western Mediterranean islands with their geographical proximity to Spain, France and Italy. This very distance and membership of empire, as opposed to membership of a nearby nation, were factors in it becoming its own country.

The Malta story is an intriguing one in the context of current Mediterranean politics. Here is a tiny island, a country in its own right, a member of the European Union, with a GDP around a third of that of the Balearics as a whole, with Mallorca providing the lion's share of this. If Malta can do it, then why not other islands?

The circumstances were, on the face of it, quite different, but there are those who will maintain that Mediterranean islands were every bit as much brought under the control of an empire as Malta was. In Mallorca the narrative is one that concerns the Bourbon dynasty. The destruction of the Crown of Aragon brought the island within the Castile sphere: 300 years of hurt and all that.

Earlier this year there was a landmark agreement reached between Corsica and Sardinia. Corsica, more so than any other of the western Mediterranean islands, has long had independence agitation. It has at times been violent. Now, it has come together with its neighbour in not just strengthening inter-island relations but in also establishing a cooperation framework that would include the Balearics. Practical aspects of this relate to transport and energy, but there is an undoubted political dimension. Corsica has a new governing alliance of pro-independence parties. Sardinia has for some time had greater autonomy with real law-making powers.

Biel Barceló, the Balearic vice-president from Més, the Mallorcan (Balearic) nationalist party, made a speech to mark Europe Day earlier this week. He spoke of there being a Europe of shared sovereignties, in which Mediterranean islands are demanding recognition of their own specific needs. "We are working towards specific formulas that will allow there to be effective recognition of our island situation." The islands, with the possible exception of Sicily because of its very much closer location to the mainland, have similar issues in common, ones caused by being islands (connectivity, increased costs, and the like), and varying levels of desire for independence from some quasi-imperialist master.

Jaume Font, leader of the more moderate nationalist El Pi, said recently - apropos travel discounts for residents - that "Madrid never learns anything or knows anything about how things are in the Balearics". They probably say the same about Paris and Rome. It is this perception of being ignored, the consequence of being on the national periphery, that helps breed resentment and desire for greater autonomy if not independence.

And that, independence, is a remote, not to say fanciful notion. Malta might provide  a clue, but Malta was and is different. So if not independence, then what about a union? One between the islands. They have much in common and much which, together, they can present at a European table. The Corsica-Sardinia agreement may well be the first step: a new Aragonese empire.

Twisted Firestarter

There are a number of things you can do in order to have a good laugh. Kicking a shop window in, for instance. Giving someone a good kicking. What hoots. The only drawback with these is that they aren't spectaculars. There is though one way you can have a really good laugh and create a really good scene into the bargain. Set fire to something. Buildings? Not bad, but for maximum amusement, why not try entire forests? Now you're talking. One little match, some dry scrub, plenty of trees around, no obvious fire breaks, a good wind. Whoosh!

The outbreak of three fires on one day at roughly the same time and in similar positions, near to highways, is a bit of a coincidence. The Balearic Government's environment minister believes they were more than just a coincidence. Firestarters. Twisted firestarters. Yep, more than just one of them.

Mallorca's burning, Mallorca's burning, fetch the engines, fetch the engines. Pour on water, pour on water. And water is poured on from a not so great height by the helicopter bombers (an apt Anglicism given that the Catalan for firefighter is "bomber") and the Canadair.

Canadair. The word has rich resonance. The name itself, not so much in Mallorca or Spain, but in France and especially Corsica, conjures up an image of heroism.

In 1983 Corsica was ablaze. Much of the island was being torched. Deliberately. It just so happened that I was there on holiday at the height of the fires.

The geography of Corsica is quite different to that of Mallorca. A single range of mountains runs more or less the length of the island, the tallest peak being twice as high as Mallorca's Puig Major. The forests are denser, and good parts of the island are pretty much inaccessible. Combine this geography with the Mistral wind and people with boxes of matches, and you got what occurred in 1983.

The fires were that bad that tourists had to be evacuated to beaches. In Propriano where I was staying, the fires reached the hills above the resort. One night the flames were clearly visible. Local people were rounded up to go and help fight the fires.

News reports on local television were full of talk of "pyromaniacs". There were two or three in particular, all German, who the police suspected of having started many of the fires. It might have seemed like a bad time to have been a tourist in Corsica, especially as foreigners were being blamed for the conflagrations, but it was the opposite. Tourists, as outraged as the Corsicans, became involved. Some would have volunteered to help with the firefighting (we would have done), but were deterred by the police. And then there was the involvement with the Canadair.

Whenever a plane landed in the bay and took off, and this would happen for hour after hour most days, tourists joined with the locals in cheering and applauding. Sight of a Canadair produced excited pointing and chatter among children. The Canadair pilots were considered heroes; the planes themselves were heroic. The strength of the name "Canadair" has never left me.

Flying into dense woodland and dense smoke required remarkable courage. You could count the Canadair out, but you couldn't always count them back in. Cables were the greatest threats; cables that couldn't be seen by the pilots.

We were taken at one point to see the extent of the damage caused by one fire. What seemed like an entire mountainside was ash. 1983 was an ecological disaster, and it was man-made.

It takes years for forest to recover. With its burning go also the fauna and their habitats. Mallorca is called the paradise island and Corsica is the island of beauty; not though when they are on fire.

Mallorca has been spared the sort of infernos that engulfed Corsica. Because of the island's geography, the potential for massive destruction isn't as great. But this is small comfort. The fires this summer, which are likely to make 2011 one of the worst years ever, have not all been deliberate. Earlier in the summer fires near Santa Margalida and Artà were attributed to sparks from farm machinery or cars; to negligence rather than to anything pre-meditated. The later ones, however, seem more sinister, such as the three on one day and their very similar circumstances. The environmental investigation division of the Guardia Civil believes that a third of the fires this summer have been deliberate.

Why do it? Why set fire to scrub, woods or forests? Who knows the mentality of a pyromaniac, of a twisted firestarter? Just having a laugh? Go tell an heroic Canadair pilot and see if he shares the joke.


Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.